Mark Farina is a house/acid jazz/downtempo DJ who showcases Chicago urban beats and hip hop samples combined with San Francisco’s jazzy-house wave. Explore the sights, sounds, and textures of Mark Farina's Mushroom Jazz through a trip and a more level reflection of his musical mixes.

Mushroom Diary. 1:14 AM. Friday, December 18th

Slick...This music tastes like kava tea. The keys are tickling me, but it doesn't feel childish. Tempo changes are interesting, the fluidity changes your syncopation.

Echoes don't sound like echoes, it's just

one voice.

That one voice is trying to tell me something, but that's not very important. It's another layer. Dissecting isn't always necessary - listen to it as a whole. Each time a key presses down, I feel it hit each point of my spine. It's stretching me!

This laughter makes me feel uncomfortable. Fastforward.

Has it only been seven minutes? I can see this beat bouncing, like the characters in the Tom Tom Club. ​I'm stuck in here. Stuck isn't the right word - because it's not confining. I'm growing within an infinite space. Infinitely in many directions, and I forgot there's more than one! I am striving for truth in one way, that's not possible! Truth is not one-directional. This beat is sick.

---

​I wrote the above excerpt while listening to Mark Farina’s Mushroom Jazz an hour after eating a few mushroom caps. Psychedelics shouldn’t be considered as playthings, but on rare occasions I’ll use them as tools during insomniac nights to fuel some thinking. When I need to dust out the cobwebs in my mind, in an altered state or in clear consciousness, it can be helpful to have a soundtrack to get myself into a state of flow. That soundtrack can be any form of music, but lately I’ve been really vibing with mushroom jazz.

Mark Farina is a house/acid jazz/downtempo DJ who was originally a part of the Chicago house music scene. Upon moving to San Francisco in the 90s, he founded a weekly Mushroom Jazz club night that showcased Chicago urban beats and hip hop samples combined with San Francisco’s jazzy-house productions. Despite developing a cult following in the bay area, Farina and co-DJ Patty Ryan-Smith decided to shut the doors to the club just after three years. Farina kept the tradition going, however, by releasing a Mushroom Jazz series that began as limited cassette releases and expanded to more widely-produced vinyl and CDs. Volume 1 dropped in 1996, and the series is still going strong-- Volume 8 is being released later this year.

It’s been a week since my psilocybin experience and I’m currently revisiting the Mushroom Jazz 2 mix I was listening to that night. It’s now 10:51 pm on a quiet Tuesday night. I’m sober, contemplative, and looking back on my mushroom diary with a new perspective.​

Slick...This music tastes like kava tea.

​

Immediately upon tuning in to this mix, you’re greeted with echoed voice samples of a discussion on dance. Though the topic isn’t sinister, the distortion on the vocals feel a bit unnerving and jittery-- kind of the like the anxious feeling after chewing some mushroom caps. However, the piano jazz that kicks in at 0:46 shifts the mood completely. The upright bass adds a slickness that immediately eases any tension and got me melted into the groove.

I was drinking kava tea at the time, but I’m sure if I had any soothing music thrown at me at the time I would have said it tasted like kava tea. Kava root is very strong and Earthy, and cinnamon, cardamon, and a hint of licorice are usually also found in Kava teas. However, I would say the actual taste doesn’t represent Mushroom Jazz, because the music reminds me moret of cruising through a city than chilling-with-the-Earth-kinda-vibe.

The music is more reminiscent of the effects of kava. Kava contains a compound called kavain that acts like a very mild sedative. It relaxes the muscles and is used in many cultures to reduce anxiety and promote social interactions. This totally relates to this mix for me. I could imagine going to the Mushroom Jazz club in ‘96 feeling social and relaxed from the slick movement of the basslines, hip-hop hooks and classy piano jazz all represented in the first few minutes of the mix.​

The keys are tickling me, but it doesn't feel childish. ​

I must be referencing the section beginning around 1:18. This section, which is sampling “Then Came You” by Euphonic feat. Kevin Yost, features a back and forth between a piano and a flute mimicking each other. The sound of these two instruments going back and forth is conversational, eager, even, yet it’s not a childish back-and-forth. The attitude of the flute is very mischievous but good-natured. This section of my journal is written from the flute’s perspective. When I heard this conversation in the song, I was yearning to jump in and interact as well. ​

Tempo changes are interesting, the fluidity changes your syncopation.

​At about 4:00, the tempo changes. Farina is an expert in transitions. It’s hard to tell when one song ends and the next begins-- it’s almost as if all the samples were originally meant to be played back to back. My inner syncopation was changing and grooving with all these tempos and I couldn’t realize how many transitions I had just been through.​

Echoes don't sound like echoes, it's just

​one voice.

​At 6:00 and after, you hear a lot of different voices scattered out under the beat. The voices take the form of little hiccups of noise with laughter and inaudible background chatter juxtaposed with a voice repeating “I want to be free.” This is reminded me of a nervous come up, either on a trip or at the beginning an anxiety attack. There’s a lot of inner monologue occurring when I’m trapped too deep in my own mind, and sometimes all I want is to not think and just be free.

While I wasn’t bombarded with all these thoughts when I wrote this, I know how those thoughts can culminate into one overruling voice. I’ve come to feel that every thought that runs through my head has some sort of validity, because it’s coming from some part of me that wants to be heard and understood (even the negative thoughts that I normally suppress). It’s all a part of your consciousness--the one voice-- and sometimes I just have to sync up all those echoes to create one big picture.​

​That one voice is trying to tell me something, but that's not very important. It's another layer.

​

Overanalyzing every thought isn’t necessary and I have to take a step back from all the chatter and see the bigger story.

Dissecting isn't always necessary - listen to it as a whole.

​

The one voice relates also to how I listen to music. I am such an avid music listener that I usually start to overanalyze every piece within a song. Sometimes I forget to just listen to the creation overall, and I think that’s what I have to remind myself of while listening to this mix. Though it’s nice to dissect it and fully appreciate all that went into this mix, sometimes it’s nice to sit back and appreciate the whole experience. ​

Each time a key presses down, I feel it hit each point of my spine. It's stretching me! ​​

This was still at about 6:30. This really simple piano part carries a lot of warmth to it which (in this mindset) I still really appreciate. ​​

This laughter makes me feel uncomfortable.Fastforward.

At 7:30, the song strips down to focus on those inaudible vocal samples. At this point it sounds more like a manic laughter when there’s no soothing grooves behind it. It’s cool now, but I can imagine this sample starting to get a little unnerving at this point during a trip, haha. ​​

Has it only been seven minutes? I can see this beat bouncing, like the characters in the Tom Tom Club.

Damn...all this introspection and it’s only been 7 measly minutes out of an hour long mix?!

I referenced “The Genius of Love” by the Tom Tom Club here, specifically the music video. The beat is so fresh and animated that the characters-- humans, animals, plants, and even the buildings-- are bouncing around to the funky beat. The rhythms 10:13 - 11:05 and 12:23 - 13:03 in the Mushroom Jazz mix are similarly sunny and bouncy, though not as funky as “Genius of Love”. ​​

I'm stuck in here. Stuck isn't the right word - because it's not confining. I'm growing within an infinite space. Infinitely in many directions, and I forgot there's more than one! I am striving for truth in one way, that's not possible! Truth is not one-directional.

​

At this point,my notion of time collapsed. I felt like I was “stuck in this mix” ‘cause I imagined I had been listening to it for hours at this point. After I wrote that line down, I thought about the intention behind the word “stuck.” It definitely has a negative connotation, and I wanted to be more critical of my words to accurately express my intent.

I’m very attached to this Mushroom Jazz mix, but it’s not trapping me. When I wrote this, I was growing and moving within the hour long path I had dedicated myself to. That thought suddenly translated into all other facets of my life. Sometimes I feel “stuck” to certain aspects of this material existence-- a relationship, an emotion, a belief. But then I remembered that there are infinitely many ways to learn and grow and live within these seemingly limited entities. And it’s not to say that I should confine myself to any one belief, but that I can learn from my experiences in boundless ways.​

This beat is sick.

And um...yeah, what was I talking about? Something about...understanding life...or...uh. Oh shit, hold up, this beat is siiiiiiiiick! ​​

​Mark Farina will be playing two sets at this year’s Gem and Jam Festival in Tucson, AZ. For more information and tickets: www.gemandjamfestival.com